


Paradise is here

by thegirl20



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Foursome, Implied Relationships, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 12:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirl20/pseuds/thegirl20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel has an announcement to make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise is here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missanomalous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missanomalous/gifts).



Quinn sits on Santana’s bed, watching Brittany demonstrate a cheerleading move over and over again while Santana offers constructive criticism. Quinn wonders if she should point out that Brittany had the move perfected on the second attempt and that Santana is really just using it as an excuse to look at Brittany’s ass, but decides against it. It is a very nice view, after all.  
  
She looks at her watch and frowns. Rachel is late. And Rachel is never late. Particularly for these little get togethers. None of them are sure what exactly to call their after-school trysts. They’d tried calling them ‘study sessions’, but that had nearly resulted in an embarrassing incident when Brittany got confused in study hall. Rachel had dismissed all of Santana’s suggestions as ‘too lewd’. So they don’t give them a name. They just are.  
  
The door to Santana’s bedroom opens and Rachel enters. Quinn’s chest lightens and she realises she’d been worried by the unusual tardiness. She shakes her head as Brittany pounces on Rachel, hugging her tightly before tickling her sides. Rachel laughs and pushes Brittany away.  
  
“You’re late, Berry,” Santana drawls. “We nearly started without you.”  
  
Rachel’s face turns serious.  
  
“Yes, I’m sorry I’m late. I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I have something I need to say to you all,” Rachel says.   
  
She gestures towards the bed and Brittany wiggles her eyebrows but Rachel shakes her head. Gently she takes Brittany’s elbow and sits her down next to Quinn. She looks at Santana and indicates that she should also sit. Santana takes her time doing so. Quinn watches Rachel’s face and her stomach becomes uneasy at what she sees.  
  
Rachel stands before them, feet planted slightly apart and hands behind her back. She looks each of them in the eye before she begins to speak.  
  
"As you all know, I have very much enjoyed spending time with you and doing...what we do. But I’ve weighed up the pros and cons, and after much deliberation I’ve come to the conclusion that I can’t do this anymore,” Rachel looks at the floor.  
  
"Can't do what, Berry?" Santana asks. "Stand there looking like you're taking part in a spelling bee? Good, now take your clothes off and come over here."  
  
"I think that's what she can't do anymore, S," Quinn explains, her voice oddly soft.  
  
Santana's head snaps around.  
  
"What? You want out? Why would you want out? D'you think you'll ever do better than us? Cuz if you do I think you're very sadly mistaken," she says, arms folded across her chest, scowl firmly in place.  
  
Rachel opens her mouth to respond but Brittany cuts in.  
  
"Do you not like us anymore, Rachel? Cuz I know Santana's not very nice sometimes. But I can try to be extra super nice to make up for her."  
  
There are tears in her eyes and Quinn watches as Rachel almost comes apart at the sight of them.   
"Oh, Brittany, it's not that at all," she says, moving forward to comfort her.   
  
But Santana's already on it and she pulls Brittany into a one-armed hug, glaring at Rachel over Brittany's shoulder.  
  
"Of course she likes you, Britt, what's not to like?" Santana reassures the upset blonde.  
  
"It's not anything any of you have done," Rachel explains, trying to catch Quinn's eye. Quinn looks away. "It's just...well, this has been lovely but it's affecting my focus, and I really need to focus on planning my career trajectory and perfecting my Julliard audition and I can't seem to do that at the moment because all I seem to think about when I'm not with the three of you is being with the three of you and I don't think it's healthy. So I'm going to have to regretfully withdraw from the group."  
  
"You make it sound like we've been playing bridge," Santana spits. "We fuck each other, Berry. It's not like a heavy commitment or anything."  
  
"That's also part of the reason for my withdrawal," she says, looking Santana in the eye. "You and Brittany get to walk down the halls holding hands. She gets to play with your hair in rehearsals and you get to steal her candy in the lunch room. You get to show people that you like each other. What do I get? I get to be the girl with no friends, the girl who everybody thinks is annoying and will probably never get a boyfriend. I have to be that girl every day."  
  
"Oh don't exaggerate, we totally talk to you in school now," Santana says, still rubbing Brittany's back.  
  
"I'll hold your hand in school if you want me to, Rachel," Brittany says, her eyes large and pleading.  
  
"Oh, sweetie..." Rachel says, but this time Santana stands up, walks over to Rachel and kisses her.  
  
Out of habit, Rachel's hands move to Santana's hips, drawing her further in. Santana's not taking any prisoners. One hand tangles in Rachel's hair, the other goes to Rachel's breast, palming it roughly and eliciting a moan. Rachel's hands slide up Santana's back, increasing the contact between their bodies.  
  
As quickly as it started, Santana draws back, wiping her mouth and leaving Rachel breathing heavily and looking slightly dazed.  
  
"Now, tell me you won't miss that," Santana challenges, and for the first time since the discussion began, Quinn can see something that looks like insecurity in her eyes.  
  
Rachel nods.  
  
"I will miss that. And I'll miss that thing Brittany does with her tongue. And I'll miss the look Quinn gives me when she's inside me because God, that really gets to me," Rachel says, unable to prevent the blush that dapples her neck as she speaks.   
  
Quinn feels her own cheeks flare at the admission. Rachel keeps her gaze on Santana, a regretful smile pulling at her lips.  
  
"But I'll also miss arguing with you about why Grease 2 is far inferior to the original," she says, her voice dangerously close to wavering.   
  
Santana rolls her eyes, which seem brighter than usual. She turns around quickly so that her back is to Rachel. Rachel shifts her gaze to Brittany.  
  
"And I'll miss how you can make me smile, just by being you."  
  
Brittany gets up and walks over, pulling Rachel into a hug.  
  
"I'll probably still be me. I don't know how to be anyone else. And I'll try to still make you smile," she says into Rachel's hair and Rachel squeezes her tighter before releasing her.  
  
She turns to the final occupant of the room. Quinn stares back at her, her jaw set.  
  
"And you," Rachel begins, she pauses and bites her lip, almost like she’s afraid to say what she wants to say. "I'll miss _you_."  
  
Quinn feels her lower lip tremble slightly and she’s sure that Rachel must have seen it. But she swallows and shrugs.  
  
"Then it's your loss," she says, her voice strong and her gaze steady.  
  
Rachel's face registers surprise, then it falls. She nods once, her eyes rapidly filling with tears. She spares a glance at Santana and Brittany before turning and walking briskly out of the room.  
  
Silence reigns for a moment as they all digest what has happened. Surprisingly, it's Brittany who breaks it.  
  
"That wasn't nice, Quinn," she says, her eyes accusing. "It wasn't nice at all."  
  
Quinn sighs and stands up.  
  
"Whatever, it's not like we didn't do this well before she came into the equation, it's no big deal."  
  
Santana spins on her heel and advances on Quinn until she's forced to take a step backwards.  
  
"Cut the crap, Fabray," she hisses. "Who was it that brought her  _into_  the equation in the first place, huh?"  
  
"Equations hurt my brain," Brittany says frowning.  
  
Santana continues without acknowledging Brittany.  
  
"It was  _you_!" Santana says, prodding Quinn in the chest. " _You_  were the one who started hanging around her like a little puppy-dog,  _you_  were the one who invited her to one of our sleepovers,  _you're_  the one who forgets anyone else is in the room when she's here! And  _you_  just let her walk away."  
  
"She chose to walk away," Quinn argues.  
  
"She wanted you to stop her!" Santana practically screams.  
  
"Since when are you so familiar with the inner-workings of Rachel Berry's brain?" Quinn shoots back.  
  
"Since  _you_  forced me to spend time with her, which resulted in me...kind of liking her, OK?" Santana throws her hands in the air. "I don't know about you, but her face when she walked away just now? Almost made me cry. And I don't cry."  
  
Quinn's shoulders slump.  
  
"And what do you expect me to do about it? Run after her and declare my undying love?"  
  
"I’d like that," Brittany says, nodding enthusiastically.   
  
"I expect you to run after her, if you  _can_  still run with all the weight you've gained, and tell her that she's not the only one who's absolutely, stupidly, head-over-heels in puppy-dog love."  
  
"This isn't some romantic comedy, S. I'm a pregnant teenager. She's Rachel Berry," Quinn says like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "This  _can't_  work."  
  
"Rachel's really nice," Brittany says simply. "And you're a lot nicer when you're with her. You're better together."  
  
Santana looks at Quinn.  
  
“I can’t put it any better than that,” she says.  
  
Quinn looks between her two friends, her expression more open than either of them can remember seeing. She looks helpless. Santana rolls her eyes.  
  
“OK, here’s what we’re gonna do. B, you go catch up with Berry, tell her that the Chubbster here has something she needs to tell her and bring her back with you. Meanwhile, I’ll try to get Q to the point where words can come out of her mouth. Then we’ll leave them to it,” Santana says. “Got it?”  
  
Brittany nods.  
  
“Got it,” she turns and opens the door to Santana’s bedroom. Then she turns back around. “Where am I taking Rachel when I catch her?”  
  
“Back here,” Santana grits out through her teeth.  
  
“What if she won’t come? She looked pretty upset when she left.” Brittany asks, and it throws Santana for a second.  
  
“If she won’t come, call us and we’ll do it on the phone,” she decides.  
  
“Maybe it’d be better that way,” Quinn pipes up, the first sign that she agrees with this plan at all.  
  
“Coward,” Santana mutters. “Go Britt! She could be halfway home by now!”  
  
Brittany sprints from the room, leaving Quinn pacing and Santana glaring.  
  
“What are you going to say to her?” Santana asks.  
  
“I thought you were going to help me with that,” Quinn says, turning to face her.  
  
“I only said that because Brittany wouldn’t have left if I’d said I was going to beat you about the head with a pillow until you came to your senses,” Santana explains. Then her face softens slightly. “Look, this thing with the four of us has only ever been temporary. It was obvious to anybody with half a brain that you were head over heels for Berry and you needed something to hide behind for a while. But whatever you say to her when she gets back here, you better make sure it’s the truth or I’ll kick your ass, pregnant or not.”  
  
Quinn laughs, tearily.  
  
“Just wait ‘til I tell Rachel that Santana Lopez is threatening people on her behalf,” she says, sniffing and wiping at her eyes.  
  
“Whatever,” Santana growls. “She’s be-“  
  
She’s cut off by her phone ringing. It’s Brittany.  
  
“B? How the hell did you catch her so quickly? Oh. On the corner?” Santana rolls her eyes. “Only fucking Rachel Berry would call her father to come pick her up from a lesbian orgy. Wait there, we’ll be right down.”  
  
She hangs up and grabs Quinn by the elbow. Quinn is reluctantly dragged from the room and down the stairs.  
  
“Wait, I don’t think I can do this on the street!” she says, pulling back against Santana’s hold.  
  
“Yes you can,” Santana says without slowing down.  
  
They head out into the front yard and continue to the sidewalk. When they catch sight of a tear-stained Rachel standing with Brittany’s arm around her shoulders they both stop walking. Rachel looks up and catches Quinn’s eye before turning away and wiping her face. Santana lets go of Quinn’s arm and shoves her forward roughly. Quinn glares at her for a second before steeling herself and facing Rachel. She approaches slowly. Brittany squeezes Rachel’s shoulder once before letting go and heading back to join Santana. She gives Quinn an encouraging smile on the way.  
  
Quinn cradles her abdomen for something to do with her hands. Rachel is looking at the sidewalk and Quinn’s pretty sure she’s going to have to make the first move. She suppresses a sigh.  
  
“Hey,” she says. It’s a lame opener but it gets Rachel to look at her, albeit incredulously.  
  
“Hey?” Rachel repeats, an eyebrow arching. “You had Brittany chase me down so that you could come out here to say ‘hey’ to me?”  
  
“No, I...” Quinn falters, her voice trailing off in the face of Rachel’s apparent anger.  
  
“What, Quinn?” Rachel demands. “I think you’ve put me in my place enough for today don’t you?”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Quinn says, unsure if she’s apologising for today or for her whole life.  
  
Rachel looks surprised at the apology. Quinn takes advantage of her silence and continues.  
  
“I...didn’t mean what I said earlier.”  
  
“So why did you say it?” Rachel counters, immediately.   
  
Quinn wrings her hands, why she had expected Rachel to make this easy on her is no longer clear to her.  
  
“Because that’s what I do,” is all she can come up with.  
  
Rachel’s mouth hardens into a stern line. She nods.  
  
“Yes, that’s what you do.” She turns and walks to the curb, looking up the street for her father’s car.  
  
Quinn looks at the back of Rachel’s head for a moment before she walks forward and puts a hand on her shoulder. She feels Rachel tense but she doesn’t remove her hand.  
  
“I can’t do that thing you do, that annoyingly honest thing, ” Quinn says quietly, aware that Brittany and Santana are lurking by Santana’s gate. “I can’t just say everything that’s in my head out loud.”  
  
“What if you could?” Rachel says, almost in a whisper.  
  
“Huh?”   
  
“If you could say what was in your head, what would you say?” Rachel presses, still facing away from Quinn.  
  
Quinn slides her hand down Rachel’s arm and steps closer.  
  
“I’d probably say something clichéd like ‘You drive me crazy’ or ‘I can’t stop thinking about you’.”  
  
Rachel doesn’t turn around and Quinn knows she has to dig deeper.  
  
“I want to hold your hand in the hallways, and I want you to play with my hair in Glee rehearsal and I want to steal food off your lunch tray.”  
  
Rachel laughs unexpectedly.  
  
“You already do that. You steal everybody’s food.”  
  
Quinn can hear the warmth return to Rachel’s voice and it makes her smile.  
  
“Can you turn around please?”  
  
Rachel does, slowly, until she’s facing Quinn. Quinn leans in, unsure. It’s not the first time she’s kissed, Rachel. They’ve kissed dozens, hundreds of times before. This is the first time it matters.  
  
Rachel is the one to close the gap between them, stretching to press her lips against Quinn’s mouth. Quinn relaxes at the first hint of contact, winding her arms around Rachel’s waist and pulling her closer, surrounding her and protecting her and asking for her forgiveness all at once. She tilts her head, allowing for the difference in their heights. Warmth sparks somewhere in her chest when she feels Rachel’s arms encircle her neck, drawing her deeply into the kiss. Quinn holds Rachel tightly, and says a silent thank you to Santana.  
  
They pull apart slowly, Quinn nipping at Rachel’s lips to draw the kiss out further. Quinn rubs her nose against Rachel’s, making them both smile.  
  
“We still have to talk,” Rachel says. “A lot.”  
  
“Of course we do, Berry,” Quinn says. “And the first topic of conversation might be about how we explain to your dad why you’re kissing a pregnant girl on the street.”  
  
Rachel turns to see her Daddy in his car, waving and grinning and giving them a thumbs up. She turns back to Quinn, biting her lip.  
  
“Uh...he may already have known that I had a...little crush on you,” she says, blushing.  
  
Quinn looks at the man in the car, he looks so happy for his little girl that she wants to cry. Her eyes meet Rachel’s again.  
  
“My head wants me to tell you that I might have a huge crush on you,” she says.  
  
The delighted grin that lights up Rachel’s face is worth any discomfort that accompanies discussing her feelings.  
  
Both of their phones beep at the same moment, cutting off further conversation. Quinn glances back to where Brittany and Santana were standing a moment before, but they’re gone. Rachel’s smiling at her phone.  
  
“Santana says to tell you ‘Well done’. And that if you ever hurt me, she’ll post the pictures from seventh grade summer camp on myspace.”  
  
Quinn’s face drains of colour, but Rachel doesn’t notice as she’s so taken with the message.  
  
“Isn’t that sweet? Who’d have ever thought Santana Lopez would be sweet to me?”  
  
Quinn’s phone beeps again. Rachel glances in the direction of the noise.  
  
“Aren’t you going to check that?” she asks.  
  
Quinn reaches into her pocket, expecting a more explicit threat from Santana, but her text is from Brittany and she smiles as she reads it.  
  
“Brittany tells me that I’ve got to look after you because you’re only little.”  
  
Rachel huffs indignantly.  
  
“I’ll have you know I’ve studied jujitsu from the age of six. I can look after myself.”  
  
“Maybe I’d like to look after you,” Quinn counters, and she thinks she might actually mean it. She also thinks she would’ve thrown up if she’d heard herself saying that last week.  
  
“OK, you being this mushy is starting to alarm me,” Rachel says, but she’s smiling and she shoves Quinn lightly, ducking her head to hide her blush.  
  
Quinn smiles at the top of her head, before glancing at the car with its engine still running.  
  
“Your dad is still sitting there,” Quinn says, prodding Rachel.  
  
“Do you want to come to my house?” Rachel asks suddenly. “I mean…we get Indian food on Wednesdays so that might not be good for the baby but we could swap it with pizza night which is usually Fridays, although it’s not as easy to eat Indian food while watching movies but we cou-“  
  
“I’d love to come to your house. And the baby is surprisingly cosmopolitan in its tastes,” Quinn assures her. “Indian is fine.”  
  
Rachel’s smile once again warms Quinn from the inside out and when her face crumples into a frown, Quinn can’t help but reach up and brush her fingertips over Rachel’s forehead in an attempt to smooth away the worry. Rachel leans into the touch and closes her eyes.  
  
“Are we…I mean…is it still...,” Rachel starts and stops.  
  
“This stuttering, unsure Rachel is about as disconcerting as me being warm and fuzzy,” Quinn says. “Just spit it out.”  
  
Rachel opens her eyes and covers Quinn’s hand with her own before speaking.  
  
“Are we still going to have sex with Brittany and Santana?” she asks, eyes wide and worried.  
  
Quinn stares for a moment, thrown by the question. Rachel takes her silence as a need for elaboration.  
  
“Because as fun as it’s been, I really don’t want to anymore…it was mostly a way for me to be close to you, although I must say that I’ve been pleasantly surprised by both of them and I’m glad that I can call them my friends now but if it’s OK with you I’d really just like for us to be…well, us.”  
  
“Rachel,” Quinn says, far more affectionately than she was aiming to. “I want that too. And I’m pretty sure Santana was only tolerating our presence until I got myself together enough to do something about this.”  
  
“She’s nicer than people think,” Rachel muses. “I’m going to bake her cookies.”  
  
“She’ll be thrilled,” Quinn says. “Can you make them in the shape of witches hats? Cuz then  _I’d_  be thrilled.”  
  
“Oh, is she a fan of Wicked?” Rachel asks, her eyes lighting up.  
  
“No, she’s just a witch,” Quinn says and giggles when Rachel punches her shoulder.  
  
“So, before my father’s engine overheats, I just have one last thing to ask you,” Rachel says, looking up through her eyelashes at Quinn.  
  
“What?” Quinn asks, thinking that the answer will probably be yes.  
  
“Kiss me again,” Rachel says.  
  
And Quinn does.


End file.
